


Take Your Time

by Ex_Hominem



Series: Raison D'Etre [3]
Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everyone is a cinnamon roll, Fluff, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 04:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8953507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ex_Hominem/pseuds/Ex_Hominem
Summary: Wirt visits a dying man at the hospital."Little angel, can you do something for me?""Anything."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn't going to continue Raison D'Etre after "The Night," but I got inspired. Besides, I'm sure WIrt deserved something a little happier. Enjoy! 
> 
> (unedited)

The Beast stood over the boy, watching him sip a hot drink.

 

“Boy.”

 

“Visiting?” the boy’s tone had some genuine surprise, “What brings you here?”

 

The Beast regarded the boy’s face. He searched for any regret, any sadness, any fear. When he opened his mouth, something inside his chest fluttered, like a faint rush of adrenaline. He glanced at the lantern. The image of the flame extinguishing flashed for a brief moment in his eyes. Then his gaze fell on the boy’s face again, this boy who had stayed with him all these years.

 

“Would you like to leave this place?”

 

“….what in the world are you talking about?”

 

The Beast placed a hand on the boy’s forehead, “I cannot allow anyone to recognize you, unfortunately, but if you would like I can grant you a night outside.”

 

“Why now of all times?” the boy’s voice was muffled, “It’s a little too late into the night to play tricks. Besides, there’s nothing I want to see.”

 

“I think you should go,” the Beast released his hand, “ _His_ time is nearly up.”

 

The boy’s eyes widened.

 

****

 

An old man lay in soft pillows. He could hear his heart monitor beating steadily. He chuckled at the thought of what sound it would make when he finally decided to close his eyes. He looked out the window, where the moon was shining. Did he want to go? It’s been a long life. But as he looked at the sky, the old man thought about all he didn’t do, all he could have done. The sights he could have seen. The conversations he could have had. The people he could have met.

 

….maybe in another life.

 

The people he could have met. The _person_ he could have-

 

His eyes adjusted. He was sure…just now, there wasn’t a person standing beside the curtain. Strange…he could see this new figure’s face but nothing was picking up, as if this person’s traits were melting and forming at the same time. He did notice the antlers on his head though.

 

Are angels supposed to look like this? This person was short, he must be young, if angels could be young.

 

“….good evening,” he whispered. The angel stepped closer, “Are you here to take me?”

 

“Do I….” the boy’s cracked like he wasn’t used to using it, “….what do I look like?”

 

“A deer," -the boy choked, "… so, are here to pick me up?”

 

“I...I don’t know. Do I look like I'm supposed to do that sort of thing?"

 

“Ha!” the man laughed, then clenched his chest. Argh, shouldn’t have done that, “Well _I’m_ ready to go. What did you visit me for, little angel?”

 

The boy looked taken back at the nickname, “I….just to see…”

 

“Just to see a dying man?”

 

“No!” the boy said almost too sharply, “No…I wanted to see what…what kind of life you lead.”

 

“That would take a lifetime to tell,” the man grinned, “I’m afraid I don’t have a lifetime. Maybe if I am able to wake up in a new body, I could tell.”

 

“You could at least tell me if it was interesting,” the boy said quietly, “Are you happy? Are you afraid?”

 

“A little,” the old man admitted, “there are still many things I want to do. I’m afraid of never seeing this beautiful world again. But…I am happy. I found a beautiful wife who is now waiting for me on the other side. I have two children who each have their own children. Every year we celebrated Christmas at my home. Those were the best evenings of the year. Tomorrow morning, they will unfortunately be crying, but the thought still warms my heart. Although I don’t want to leave them, I know they will all lead fulfilling lives. Yes, I am happy.”

 

“Then you can pass on without any regrets,” It sounded more like a question from the boy’s mouth, “Because I bet your life was amazing.”

 

What a strange boy.

 

“Tell me, angel….” the man spoke up, “forgive the childish fantasies of an old man, but what is the other side like? Is it pleasant? Cold? Does it feel like an eternity?”

 

The horned figure looked out the window. The sky was beginning to turn a pale pink. Soon the sun would break through the horizon, “Who knows,” he mused, “Maybe the other side will be a world on its own. Maybe it’ll be like this one, maybe-“

 

“I hope it’s nice.”

 

The boy paused. Then he smiled, “Yeah, me too.”

 

The old man looked up the ceiling. He imagined water crashing around him, pulling him under. He imagined staying at the bottom, cold, alone, unable to move. His chest tightened. He thought back to every year’s Christmas, how happy he was every year. How warm the fire was when the outside was cold, when every lake was frozen over and dark.

 

“I hope the other side is warm….” the old man’s teeth clenched, “Because then maybe he didn’t have to suffer much.”

 

*****

 

The room suddenly felt cold. Wirt froze, “Who?”

 

The man gave a laugh. It rattled in his throat, sounding more like gasping than chuckling, “I have a wife. I have two children. I have grandchildren. But my wife should have had a brother, my children an uncle. Angel, you are right. I lead an amazing life, but I can’t pass without regrets.

 

“If only I wasn’t such a naive child…I didn’t understand the meaning of anything, why I was alive, why other people weren’t. I went about living happily without a care in the world. It was only when I became an adult that I understood, by then it was too late to go back, to apologize.”

 

“You have _nothing_ to apologize for," Wirt said fiercely, "children aren't naive, they're _innocent_."

 

The old man shook his head, “I have a beautiful wife, I have two children who have their own children. Every year I am able to celebrate christmas with my family because years ago, I left someone behind.”

 

Wirt started foreword, “That’s not true!”

 

The old man shook his head. His glassy eyes stared at the ceiling, “No, I know it is. I’m an old man, I can’t be fooled anymore. How did he feel? Why couldn’t I stop and turn around, to look at him, to realize what he was hiding? I remember so clearly…” the man’s wrinkled face was contorted as he struggled to form words, “how happy I was to get out of that place. My heart was soaring as I leapt over the wall. I never looked back once.”

 

“Then that’s good….” Wirt’s vision swam, “No, that’s good. if you had looked back, then, then…” He remembered his promise with the Beast, “then….”

 

“I wonder how it feels, to be left behind,” the old man glanced at the boy, “I don’t know how it feels. I wish I could. I’ve never known that feeling, not even once,” the man hacked. It sounded like he was coughing his lungs out. Maybe he was laughing again, or maybe he was crying, which was it? The boy’s fists clenched, which was it?!

 

“Hey, do you know what’s even funnier?” the man chuckled.

 

Wirt didn’t want to know.

 

“I bet he was smiling when I ran away from him. I bet he didn’t even mind. That fool….” the man lifted an arm to cover his eyes.

 

_Ah, he’s crying._

 

“if only I looked back. If only I looked back. Every Christmas, when my grand children sit on my lap, I think about why they were there in the first place, how _I_ was there in the first place. I wondered if I deserved any of it.”

 

_What. What? What the hell?_

 

“Why _wouldn’t_ you deserve any of it?” Wirt started foreword. He slammed his hands hand down, looming over the old man, his face contorted, “If you had to work long hard hours just to ensure your children could grow up, if that was the _only_ way your children could grow up, does that mean your children didn’t deserve it? Because you broke your hands for them, lost sleep for them, because their childhood and adulthood was owed to your sweat? Would _you_ think that they didn’t deserve to grow up? Tell me, what would you tell your children if you saw them beating themselves up for _growing up?”_

 

Wirt was already bellowing the answer before the old man could even blink.

 

“ _STOP BEING STUPID!”_

 

The man gave a start. 

 

Wirt looked down, clenching the man’s pillows. His chest hurt. He couldn’t breathe. Damn it, why couldn’t he breathe? “Aren’t people supposed to do things for others because they _love_ them?” He gasped, “How are we supposed to feel if all we see are regretful faces? Sure it feels great to be acknowledged but more than anything else we want….” His head bowed down, “I want….”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Wirt looked up with a start.

 

“Did I make you cry? I didn’t mean to do that.” the old man sighed, shifting in his bed, “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. To be honest, I will never stop regretting the day where I left him behind. But I did live a very happy life. I lived the best life I could ever live, and-“ the old man’s voice broke, “I’m thankful. I’m so thankful, so please don’t cry. I miss him, and I love him, but yes, my life was amazing. I couldn’t wish for anything more.”

 

Wirt’s knuckles were white. “I see…” he gave a shaking laugh, “Hey, don’t cry,” he took the edge of the blanket and gently wiped the man’s face, “everything is going to be okay.”

 

The old man chuckled, “But aren’t you crying too, little angel? Why are you wasting your breath on this pitiful old man? You know…You feel familiar,” his pale eyes met Wirt’s, “Have we met?”

 

“Maybe,” Wirt rested his forehead on the man’s, “maybe…a long long time ago. I’ll leave it up to your imagination.”

 

“What a funny angel…” The old man coughed, “It’s too late for me….” The light in his eyes was slowly dying. His voice was drifting off like he was falling asleep, “Little angel, can you do something for me?”

 

“Anything.”

 

“If you see my brother…if he is alive and well….tell him I’m sorry, tell him I wish he could see my children. Tell him I wish we could have talked again.”

 

Wirt squeezed his eyes shut, “….yes…. ”The old man lifted his hand. Wirt held it tightly against his face.

 

“And please,” the man managed a smile, “tell him to take his time….”

 

Wirt’s mouth opened, then he closed it again. He laughed.

 

“Yeah, I’ll do that Greg.”

 

****

 

“Tell me, do you think I am ‘alive and well?’ “

 

The Beast tilted his head, "Why, do you think of yourself as dead?”

 

Wilt looked to the s side and resumed his chopping, “No…I was just wondering.”

 

“So what are you going to do? Do you have anyone left to protect?” The Beast watched the woodsman carefully, “What will you tell yourself now, when your hands blister from cutting trees or when you ruin your clothes with oil?”

 

The boy turned to the Beast with a smile, “I don’t have to tell myself anything, anymore. You don’t have to threaten me with his grandchildren either…” Wirt paused and watched a pair of butterflies dancing in the wood, “You may have taken my home, but this place has given me a new one.”

 

“Even though I tempt people to their demise in order to keep us both alive?”

 

“Nevertheless, do you see me returning to the human world?” Wirt tilted his head, “Living in a place where everyone I know will leave me behind in a timespan that only feels like a blink from my point of view? Besides, someday you’re going to have to stop doing that, tricking people, I mean,” Wirt looked up as the two butterflies landed on his antlers, “even someone as scared as you will grow tired of living and want to rest.”

 

“Are you ready to die then?”

 

“Hmmm….” Wirt lowered his ax and stooped down to pick up the Edelwood. He began walking back to his cabin. The Beast silently followed like a shadow.

 

“What if I said yes,” Wirt said over his shoulder, “What would you do?”

 

“I would feel upset.”

 

The Woodsman laughed, “I was expecting ‘angry,’ now you just sound like a saddened child.”

 

“That doesn’t change what would happen. In case you haven’t realized, I do not wish to leave this world, even if I have to trample on others.”

 

Wirt shifted the Edelwood on his back, “A few years back you would have knocked me against a tree and threatened to make my death a lot more excruciating than yours.”

 

“I think we’re both past that.”

 

“Pfft,” Wirt chuckled, “Maybe. When you told me about Greg, were you afraid that I would choose to die?”

 

“The thought lingered in my head. I was worried that you would free yourself ,” The Beast admitted, “but as for the promise of killing Gregory’s descendants… I think we’re both past that as well.”

 

“Nevertheless, you still chose to tell me, despite all the things we went through. Something tells me you didn’t just tell me on a whim. I bet you were scared for a moment.”

 

The Beast did not reply.

 

Wire’s shoes crunched in the snow, “Thank you.”

 

The Beast stopped walking for a moment. Thank you? For what? Did the boy already forget the nights where he screamed until his throat was raw, or the days he went on refusing to eat? Or did he no longer care? Which was it?

 

 _I think we’re both past that_.

 

Why?

 

Wirt turned the handle to his front door. Before going inside, he turned around, “You know….” he mused, “I have friends in town. The forest is peaceful. My brother’s children are happy and I no longer feel bound by anything. I think… I think I am alive and well. Before he left,” Wirt picked up his lantern, “he asked me to take my time.” Wirt gave a last smile before shutting the door, “So I think I will.”

 

****

 

Late into the night, the Beast sauntered into the quiet cabin. It had filled up over the years. There was now a bookshelf built into the wall, carpets, ornaments, a better bed, and a desk with paper and books sprawled everywhere. In the corner, a clarinet resting inside its case stood. The Woodsman sat at the desk, fast asleep. His face was planted in the center of his writing (he was going to wake up with smears on his face), drool ruining the ink. His lambent lantern threw gentle shadows across his face.

 

The Beast stood over the boy.

 

 _Thank you_.

 

The dust on the ground shifted as the Beast dragged something over to the desk. He draped a blanket over Wirt’s shoulders.

 

“Silly boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
